


Blood Stains on our White Picket Fences

by DustinMcDreamy



Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020), DC Extended Universe
Genre: 1950s, Alternate Universe - 1950s, Blood and Violence, Graphic Description, Gun Violence, Homophobia, M/M, Mention of Domestic Violence, Minority Solidarity, Racism, Scars, Suburbia, Victor Zsasz's Tally Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:06:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23747290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustinMcDreamy/pseuds/DustinMcDreamy
Summary: Roman and Victor Zsasz-Sionis are a perfectly happy married couple who just purchased a new home in a fancy new suburb right outside of the up-and-coming Gotham City in the good ole 1950’s. However, shortly after they move in, something starts happening to the homophobes.....
Relationships: Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz
Comments: 15
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This story will attempt to cover a few different arcs such as being gay, a woman, or a person of color in the 1950’s. A part of the story will likely come off as ‘white savior-y’, which is a trope some may want to avoid, but the intent was that since it’s coming from queer characters, it is hopefully more genuine as marginalized individuals taking care of each other rather than white cishets helping PoC to make themselves feel better. I really hope that nothing comes across disrespectfully as I try to convey that the 50s were a time period in favor of straight white men.

The sun was shining in one of Gotham City’s suburban neighborhoods. Children were out riding their bicycles, lawns were being mowed, and neighborhood moms were sitting on their patios drinking and having laughs, not bothering to discuss their monthly book club novel.

A moving truck carefully drove through the streets of the subdivision and parked in front of the freshly built house on Pride St.

The mothers all gawked and shrieked with excitement. “The new neighbors are here!” “The new neighbors are here!” They all dispersed to their own homes. Friends needed to be rang on the telephone. Cookies, cakes, and pies needed to be baked at once. They needed to make a positive impression on the new Mr. And Mrs.

Neighbors tried to take a peep out their windows, not getting nice angles. Was the new wife pretty? Was she prettier than them? Would the husband get along with their husbands and watch baseball on the tube? 

“Harold! Harold!” a housewife exclaimed as she headed to her husband who was taking a nap on the couch.

He jolted awake, his snore being disrupted by the sudden disruption. “What is it, Erika?” 

“The new neighbors just arrived in the moving truck! We should meet them in a bit! I’m about to bake them some cookies,” she said cheerfully. 

“Okay,” he said sleepily. 

“Try to make a good impression, you don’t got many friends!” she exclaimed as she rushed over to the rotary phone and spun a number to call. “Margot! It’s Erika, the new neighbors are moving in now, isn’t this exciting? Tell everybody you know!”

She hung up the phone and began to comb through her pantry for the cooking ingredients. She mixed the flour, sugar, butter, and eggs as the new neighbors unloaded the truck and moved boxes inside. 

As they cooked in the oven, she made her way to the vanity in her guest bedroom (Harold didn’t want her girly mirror in their bedroom) and she got dolled up to meet the new husband and wife that were moving in across the street.

She eagerly made her way back to the kitchen to put on her pristine red and white plaid oven mitts to take the cookies out of the oven.

“Harold! Harold! It’s time, come on! Put your shoes on! Let’s go make a positive first impression!” Erika rushed and ordered.

“Fine, fine, quit your yapping,” he mumbled as he forced himself awake from the couch. As Harold put on his shoes, Erika was putting the cookies in a container. They both congregated at the front door and Harold got the door for his wife, who was much more excited than he.

They made their way across the street where a man in a dashing white suit was smoking a cigar watching the delivery men unload the car. “Hello, hello, new neighbor!” Erika greeted, drawing the man’s attention.

The gentleman’s face lit up with an excited smile. “Oh, good morning!” 

“I’m Erika, and this is my husband, Harold. We’re the Hoffman’s and we live right across the street from you!” she introduced. “These cookies are for you and your family.”

“Well, it is a pleasure to meet the both of you, and I am very grateful for your generosity. That is so very kind,” Roman said as he took the tray. “My name is Roman Sionis-Zsasz,” he replied.

“What a unique last name,” Erika stated. “Where does that originate from?”

“Well, Sionis is originally Greek, and my husband Zsasz’s last name is Italian,” Roman replied.

Erika and Harold froze momentarily from the mention of husband before chortling out a laugh. “I think you meant wife, pal,” Harold said. “Your misses? You said husband.”

Roman let out a small chuckle. “No, there’s no mistake. Hey Victor, come out here and meet our new neighbors!” Erika and Harold’s humored expressions quickly faded as they slowly realized.

“By the way, my husband was a war hero in the second world war. He saved his squadmates from a shrapnel grenade, it should have killed him. Thank stars it did not, but he has a lot of scars, but do not be alarmed, he truly is a real American patriot,” Roman stated.

A man with snow white hair, but a black stubble beard stepped out. He was wearing a striped polo and the man’s face and arms were indeed covered in scars. “Good Morning, Neighba’s,” he said with a slight accent, as if he were from Boston or something. “I’m Victor Zsasz-Sionis.” He extended his hand to Harold who eyed it uncomfortably.

“I just touched something on my fence on the way over,” he said as he wiped his hand on his pants. “I don’t want to be gross.”

“Well thanks for the warning,” he said with a chuckle before turning to Erika. Erika was equally nervous but she at least feigned politeness and shook Zsasz’s hand, albeit weakly. “I’m Erika and this is my husband Harold Hoffman. Roman tells us you served?”

“I sure did,” he replied enthusiastically. “I was not about to let those rotten Nazis invade our beloved American soil.”

“She chuckled nervously at his presence and discreetly wiped her hand on her skirt. “Well, thank you for your service. Well, we simply must get back to cleaning and errand running, right Harold? We just wanted to meet the neighbors! Feel free to keep the container, by the way,” Erika offered.

“No, I couldn’t possibly,” Roman replied.

“Oh, I insist, I simply have too much as is. You’d be doing me a favor. You can always continue to forward it along as well, you know how it goes,” she said with a forced smile.

“Well thank you so much for your time, Mr. and Mrs. Hoffman,” Roman greeted.

“You too, Mr. and Mrs., I mean,” she let out a nervous chuckle. “Force of habit, Mr. Sionis.”

“No worries,” Victor said with a gracious smile. “Take care, now.”

Erika and Harold turned and walked back home at a slightly faster pace than normal. “You didn’t say they were queers,” Harold said with a low growl.

“How was I supposed to know?” she asked back. They entered their house and Erika quickly rushed to the sink to wash her hand vigorously. “That Victor man looked positively frightening. Do they have different diseases than we do?”

“I don’t know, Erika,” Harold replied.

Erika quickly darted to her phone and began to spin the number again. “Margot! Margot! Thank the lord you’ve answered! The new neighbors are queer! It’s two men! They claim to be married! They have each other’s last names! No I am not making this up or lying! I’d never fabricate a lie as serious as this. You must help me warn everyone!”

“Did you see the way that guy refused to shake my hand?” Victor asked.

“I saw it, Victor,” he said sympathetically.

“I bet they shook yours before you mentioned me,” he replied.

“I was holding this tray of cookies,” Roman said. “I didn’t get the opportunity.” He set it down on their kitchen counter next to some small boxes. Their new home was chock full of them and only their larger furniture was out an in place.

“I really thought Gotham was going to be different, more liberal,” Zsasz replied. “I just want to be able to share a life with my husband in peace, just like any other couple.” He cupped both sides of Roman’s face as he professed his love before leaning forward and kissing him tenderly.

Roman kissed him back for a few moments before finally breaking apart, looking deep into Victor’s eyes reassuringly. “We are going to be okay here. This is an exciting new town, and I got a generous promotion. We will make the most of it. And we know what to do to the people who hurt us.” He touched one of Zsasz’s scars on his forehead gently, implying something devious that made Zsasz smile mischievously. 

Roman kissed Victor’s cheek and looked around the room, rubbing his palms together. “Let’s get unpacking and then let’s show all the neighbors who we are and that we don’t care what they think.”

They unpacked the essentials they would need for the night and the minor stuff could wait until tomorrow. They put on their best walking shoes and headed out the door to go door-to-door to meet the neighbors.

“Hello, we’re Mr. and Mr. Sionis-Zsasz, we’re your new neighbors.”

“I’m Roman and this is Victor. We’re the Sionis-Zsasz’s, the new couple that moved into that house on Pride Street.”

“I’m Victor Zsasz-Sionis and this is my husband Roman Sionis-Zsasz, we moved in just down the street.”

“We’re the Zsasz-Sionis’s, we moved in on Pride. We’re your new neighbors.”

“Oh are you brothers?” one neighbor asked naively.

The two laughed in response. “No, we’re happily married husbands.”

“Married to your wives? You’re brothers-in-law?” she prompted, her confusion growing.

“Nope, married to each other.”

“O-oh,” she said faintly.

Their canvassing went as expected, but they continued on their walk. “They can come around as soon as they get to know us. We’re good people, right?”

“As long as they’re good to us,” Zsasz replied with a smile. They approached one house where a woman in a maid’s uniform was rolling a trash can out to the curb for pickup.

“Good Evening!” Roman greeted. “Are you the owner of this lovely house?”

The woman gave him a confused look and looked down. “I’m just a maid,” she said with a confused expression. “The owners aren’t home, either. Besides, people of color can’t live in this neighborhood, they’d never allow it.”

“Oh, that’s unfortunate, we could always use a little more diversity. We just moved in hoping this city would be more liberal than our last. I’m Roman Sionis-Zsasz, and this is my husband, Victor,” he greeted as he held out his hand.

She chuckled and eyed him. He was used to this response, as all the rest, but then she surprised him. “You want to shake  _ my _ hand?” she asked.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked.

“You really don’t care that I’m black?” she asked.

“Do you mind that we’re queer?” Roman asked.

A smile lit on her face. “Not at all,” she said as she shook his hand. “It’s nice to have someone I can relate to, in a way.”

Victor held out his hand as well and she shook it as well. “You’re not afraid of my scars?”

“I assume you’ve seen some shit, it’s none of my business. It’s about a person’s inside, not their outsides,” she replied.

“I’m glad you think that way Miss-”

“Dinah. Dinah Lance,” she stated.

“Miss Dinah, you have been the friendliest face we’ve seen so far in this neighborhood.” Roman replied. “I wish you were our neighbor instead of working for them. Do you like it?”

“No woman likes being a maid, especially to a husband that’s not theirs. But there’s not a lot of prospects for women like me. We can’t even drink from the same fountains often,” she said. “Sorry if I’m crossing a line, most white folk don’t like to hear about that. You seem cool so far.”

“Never feel like you need to hide yourself in our presence,” Roman stated. “How are you with taking notes and organization?”

“I’m very organized. I keep this house and my own immaculate,” she said. “Why do you ask?”

Roman fished in his pocket for a business card and handed it to her. “I just got a new promotion, hence the move. I’ll be in need of a secretary to help me plan and organize.”

“He’d lose his head if it weren’t attached to his brain. I do everything for him,” Zsasz stated.

“I would love to have you come in. I’d still like a formal interview, but I like you Dinah, and I feel I can trust you. Many people wouldn’t want to work for a queer like me anyways. You’d be doing me a favor, and I’ll pay more generously than you’ll get here I reckon,” Roman said.

She smiled widely at the business card in her hand. “Are you serious?,” she asked in disbelief.

“Yes, but all I can guarantee for now is an interview so we can talk more. We must be on our way and I’m sure you need to get back to work. I don’t want to get you in trouble,” Roman said.

“Thank you, Mr. Sionis-Zsasz,” she said, shaking his hand and Victor’s again. “It has been wonderful meeting you.”

“You too, Dinah,” Victor replied. “We hope to see you around.” They waved goodbye as they headed on their walk.

“I liked her a lot,” Roman said.

“I did too,” Victor said. “How many more of these houses should we hit?”

“Oh, we’re going to hit them all,” Roman said enthusiastically.

  
  


The rest of their canvassing went as expected and the two of them returned home exhausted, collapsing on the couch.

“Why did we go through that ordeal?” Zsasz asked.

“If we didn’t, we wouldn’t have met Dinah. There’s always a possibility there are other nice people like her, and we’ll never find them if we’re not out and seen,” Roman replied.

“I’m so sick and tired of people looking down on us, looking down on  _ you _ ,” Victor said as he cuddled up to Roman and stroked his face. “You deserve so much better.”

Roman smiled tenderly at Victor and took his hands into his appreciatively. “I have everything I need with you, Victor,” he replied. “And we are stronger than they are, and we will endure and they will  _ suffer _ .”

Zsasz grinned a dark, knowing smile as Roman lifted Zsasz’s hands and hissed his knuckles, while keeping his gaze fixed on his husband.

“Now, I heard there was a bingo night tonight!” Roman exclaimed.

They entered their local community hall where all members of their little suburb of Gotham were congregated for some light gambling.

Roman was in line buying bingo cards while Zsasz headed over to the bake sale table. “How much for one of these brownies?”

The woman was slightly put off by his appearance, but gave him a smile. “Just a dime each, and proceeds help the community!”

“I’ll take two in that case,” he said with a smile as he fished out some coins. 

“Did you get those in the war?” she asked nervously. 

“I did,” Victor said with a smile. “A grenade came in. I wanted to shelter my team from the blast so I went to take it all on my own. It ended up being shrapnel. I shouldn’t have survived that either, but I did.”

“Oh,” the woman said, putting her hand on her heart. “You’re a hero!”

“Oh, that’s not necessary. Our country needed us,” Zsasz replied.

“Are you here with anyone?” she asked with a smile, now getting warmed up to him.

“My husband over there in the white suit,” Zsasz replied. “We just moved in.” He smiled proudly, unashamed, and with a little humor knowing she was about to be blindsided as he picked up the two brownies.

“Hus-what-”

“Thank you for the brownies!” he exclaimed as he walked off and joined Roman, who had two large sheets in his hand.

“Left or right?” Roman asked.

“Well, seeing as I’m your right hand man, I want the sheet in your right hand,” Zsasz said.

“But you’re wrapped around my left one,” Roman replied, wiggling his ring finger.

“I’ll take whatever you’d like to give me,” Zsasz said suggestively. Roman smiled on the innuendo and handed Zsasz the one in his left hand.

They sat down at a table across from another married couple. Roman saw the wife nudge her husband, causing him to look up.

“Good Evening,” Roman greeted. “How are you two doing tonight?”

“Uhm, we’re fine,” the woman said. 

“I’m Roman Sionis-Zsasz, and this is my husband, Victor,” Roman introduced.

“Pleasure to meet you both,” he said with a confident smile.

“H-how lovely to meet you,” she said uncomfortably. “I’m Jessica Betters and this is my husband, Eric.”

“Betters? At Bingo? Love the irony in that,” Zsasz joked with a smile.

“Honey, I think I see Kim and John over there, remember, we were looking for them earlier?” Eric asked unconvincingly.

“O-oh good! We should sit by them. It was nice to meet you both,” she said nervously as they stood up and made their way to the other side of the bingo hall. They both noticed how the couple had looked around, unsure where to go before the husband finally pointed to a spot. The husband, Eric, turned to see if Roman and Victor were watching, and eye contact was made.

“Do we  _ instigate _ ?” Roman asked, with some slight pride. Victor chuckled softly and looked at his husband.

“Better than anyone,” he replied. 

Nobody sat next to them the rest of the night, even though their table ahd a lot of space. They squished at tighter tables or stood, but Victor and Roman dobbed their squares as they were called out.

“I-24,” the announcer called.

“BINGO!” Roman exclaimed as he stood up enthusiastically.

“Come on down,” the announcer exclaimed into the microphone as Roman confidently walked down the center aisle of the bingo hall and turned in his ticket.

“Looks like it’s a match,” the verifier stated.

“Congratulations,” the announcer said. “And what’s your name, sir?”

“Roman Sionis-Zsasz,” he replied.

“That’s quite the mouthful. You have won a box of chocolates and a bottle of champagne to spoil a nice young missus,” the announcer said as he handed Roman his prize.

Roman laughed as he accepted the gift. “Actually I’m happily married to my husband, Victor Zsasz-Sionis who served in the war and survived shielding his squad platoon from shrapnel damage. Wave ‘hi’, Victor.”

Victor smiled with a shit-eating grin in the back while the crowd murmured and gasped. “I-uh-well, thank you for your service, sir. Let’s give them a round of applause and get to the next round!”

The applause was weak and awkward as Roman headed back to his table with Victor. “If they didn’t know us before, they know us now,” Roman said with a grin.

“They sure do,” Victor replied. “Everyone is going to know Roman Sionis.”

“Sionis-Zsasz,” he corrected with a smile. “I’m nothing without my mister.”

They watched as some people scurried out of the bingo hall, not wanting to play another round, and rigidly not glancing at their table they needed to cross to the exit. “I think I’m going to like this town, Romy,” Zsasz stated.

“I think I’m going to like it too, Victor.”


	2. Chapter Two

Dinah nervously and anxiously sat at the back of the city bus as it took her into Gotham City where Roman’s job was located. She really hoped this would pan out. The family she worked for was extremely displeased that she wasn’t coming in.

“I’m very sick, and I would hate to contaminate your house and pass it on to you and Mr. Martin,” she said, forcing out a heavy and mucus-y sounding cough.

“Fine, stay gone until you’re no longer contaminated, but don’t be too long. I may need to find a replacement maid and I might just keep her!” Mrs Martin threatened. Dinah hated that woman. 

She stepped off the bus and took out a piece of paper with the directions she got from the library. She walked through the posh blocks, feeling very out of place. She got nasty looks on the sidewalk as if she didn’t belong in their space. She tried to pay no mind, but didn’t wish to risk coming off as defensive or instigating.

She found the building, Wayne Enterprises, and stepped inside. She was overwhelmed at the lobby. She had never been anywhere so nice and ornate. She all of a sudden felt sure this had to be some type of trick or trap. This could not be real, it was too good to be true.

She nervously approached the white woman at the front desk, who was looking down, taking some notes. When she looked up, there was no shock or drawback, just a genuine smile. “Good Morning, welcome to Wayne Enterprises! How may I help you today?”

“Hi,” Dinah said sheepishly. “My name is Dinah Lance. I have an interview with Roman Sionis-Zsasz.”

“You must be really close with him! He usually only goes by Sionis here. Yes, Ms. Lance, he called us earlier and said to expect you. He’s on the twentieth floor, suite C! Here is your guest badge, and can you please sign this log?”

The woman handed Dinah the badge and the guest log, as if it were nothing. Dinah tried to fight a smile as she signed the forms and took the badge. “Is there a bathroom for women of color here?”

A surprised look of shock grew on the woman’s face. “Oh, Ms. Lance, we don’t segregate here. Every bathroom here is open to all races and creeds. Thomas Wayne is a big advocate in ending racial inequality. We have very strong non-discrimination policies here, and everyone who works here knows we will be doing business for and alongside people of all different backgrounds.”

“Well, thank you so much for your kindness,” Dinah replied.

“I hope you do so well on your interview. We’d love to have you around, Ms. Lance,” the receptionist said. Dinah didn’t know what to say aside from smile widely. She had never felt so welcomed in a white space. She really hoped she could impress Roman.

She made her way to the elevator and hit the button for the twentieth floor. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves.The doors opened and she made her way to Roman’s suite and let herself in. 

There was a front office with a receptionist’s desk and waiting couches. He had a sign on the desk that read “no reception, please knock on Roman’s doorway”.

She slowly and carefully approached Roman’s office, even though she was unsure why she was going so slow. His door was open and he was typing something on a typewriter, Dinah knocked and he looked up and smiled at her.

“Ms. Lance! You made it! Thank you so much for coming!” he greeted as he stood up from his desk and made his way over to greet her. He shook her hand again, even though they had already met. “Please, have a seat.”

“This is an incredibly lovely building, and you have such a nice office as well,” Dinah complimented.

“I cannot take all of the credit. Wayne Enterprises is truly ahead of every other company. They are leading in energy and real estate, which is genius because by providing their own energy to their own commercial and residential properties, they are cutting out the need for consumers to get a middle man or third-party company, and that is additional revenue coming back,” Roman said proudly.

“That is pretty ingenious,” she said. 

“And Mr. Wayne doesn’t even get greedy with it. He is a major philanthropist and advocate. I feel more welcome here than I have anywhere else,” Roman said.

“I felt the same, the receptionist was so nice to me,” Dinah commented.

“Sara, she’s amazing,” Roman stated. “So, let’s get to business. Did you bring the cover letter and resume I requested?”

“Yes,” she said as she reached into her purse to fish them out. “I don’t think it’ll be very impressive-”

“Please, Dinah, never sell yourself short,” Roman stated as he took the documents from Dinah. “Besides, this was mostly a test. I mostly want to evaluate your type-writing skills.”

He looked focused as he looked over her resume and her cover letter she had written and he smiled. “Were you really taking care of your mother’s finances as a kid?”

Dinah nodded. “She was a busy woman and I wanted to help how I could, so I made sure her funds were balanced and budgeted.”

“That’s something I could really need,” Roman stated. “And I love your use of language. Everything is concise. I couldn’t tell you how many confusing memos I receive from other departments.”

“I read a lot as a kid, practically all of the time. I always wanted to be in a spelling bee,” she said.

“Did you ever get the chance?” Roman asked.

Dinah shook her head. “No, my school never had one.” 

“That’s a shame, I bet you would have been great,” Roman said.

“I bet I would have been great too,” she replied with a smile. Roman smiled back at her with glee.

“Now _that_ is what I like to see. _Confidence!_ I understand it isn’t easy to have it outside these walls, but in here, you’re safe, and that’s the Dinah I’d like to have here,” Roman said proudly. Dinah’s heart raced at that comment. Maybe she had a real shot. Roman glanced over at her resume another time. “Honestly, Dinah, I don’t think I’ll find someone who has worked as long and as hard as you have. You’re hired!”

“Really?” she asked with a surprise. She brought her hands to her mouth and shut her eyes to hold back the excited tears. 

“Of course,” Roman said. “Can you start tomorrow?”

“Yes, yes, I can,” she replied confidently and cool-headed. “I won’t let you down, Mr. Sionis-Zsasz.”

“Please, do not be so formal with me. Roman is fine,” he said with a smile as he stood up to shake her hand. “Welcome to Wayne Enterprises, Dinah.”

“Thank you, Roman,” she said with a smile. “Eight o’clock?”

“Yes ma’am,” he replied. “See you in the morning.”

She left his office full of glee and hope. She wasn’t looking forward to an angry phone call to Mrs. Martin, but it would be well worth it. She stopped by back at Sara at the front desk to return the guest badge and sign out.

“How did it go?” Sara asked. 

“He offered me the job!” Dinah replied. 

“Congratulations! I’m so happy for you. It’ll be nice to have you back, and Mr. Sionis is a really nice and charming man,” she replied.

Dinah signed the sheet and smiled at Sara. “See you tomorrow!”

She made her way back out the building and took a moment to really look at the buildings in Gotham. Everything was so large and grand, and she was a part of it now. This could be life-changing.

Victor was at the grocery store gathering food for the week. With his steady income from his “retirement” from the military, he didn’t need to work. Both he and Roman earned enough to support the other, but Roman liked working.

He was stocking his cart when the shrill laughter of two obnoxious women grabbed his attention.

“Did you hear about the couple of homosexuals that moved in to White Rose Estates?” one woman asked.

“Oh yes!” the other replied. “I’m glad _I_ don’t live in that suburb, the property values would surely decline.”

“I do sure wish they’d just move into one of the neighborhoods the _help_ lived in,” the other woman replied.

“They say one of them is some war hero and he’s riddled with terrifying scars. Surely there’s some veteran neighborhood somewhere,” the original woman replied.

“I didn’t even know they let the homosexuals into the military! The other soldiers must have been so uncomfortable,” the woman replied.

They had been approaching Zsasz unknowingly, but had paid absolutely no mind to anyone else in the store. He turned to look at them and they froze in their steps, their faces growing paler and paler as all blood rushed away from their cheeks.

“Saving our great country was more important than worrying about who was appropriate to save it. My soldiers knew I’d have their backs, and when those good for nothing Nazis threw a grenade to blow us up, I jumped on it thinking my body would absorb the blast and save them. Luckily it was just shrapnel, and I lived, and I got come back to the country I loved and marry my husband, who is the kindest person I ever met. You two could take lessons from him.”

The two women looked incredibly awkward and uncomfortable. “Let’s get off on a better foot,” Zsasz offered. “I’m Victor Zsasz-Sionis. And you are?”

“Elizabeth Shepard,” one said nervously.

“Alice Beck,” the other added.

“Elizabeth, Alice, it was good to meet you. If you see me or my husband around and would like to actually get to know us, do feel free to say hello,” Victor said before he rolled his cart away from the ladies and moved on to another aisle. He smiled to himself as he repeated their names, _Elizabeth Shepard. Alice Beck,_ and recalled them to memory.


	3. Chapter Three

_Six months after Roman and Victor move into Gotham’s Suburbs._

Detective Renee Montoya canvassed the bedroom where a husband and wife had been brutally murdered. It was a disturbing sight to see, but Montoya never shied away. She had often been overlooked. The men on her force never thought she could handle it, but she had a more iron resolve than most of them.

Montoya got close to the victim’s faces and looked carefully at how they were positioned. “The killer got the man first. He is mostly in a normal sleeping position. The throat was cut before the duct tape was put over their mouth.”

“How can you tell?” Detective Drago asked.

“You only duct tape someone who is bound. Since he’s not bound, he could have removed the duct tape prior to having his throat slashed. He didn’t want to risk his hands leaving his throat to stop the blood flow,” Montoya explained. “The woman was second. Bruising on her shoulder implies struggle. She woke up in the disturbance, the killer had to act quick. Her slash line is sloppier as is her duct tape. Blood patterns suggest her body was moved retroactively.”

“Why put duct tape on last?” Drago asked.

“They can still make _some_ noise, but I believe it’s a message. I think they said something they shouldn’t have. The killer went for the throat and mouth to simulate silence,” Montoya said.

“Who could Harold and Erika Hoffman piss off in a town like Gotham?”

****

“Hello!” Roman cheerfully greeted as he opened the front door to his home to Detective Montoya and Detective Drago. They were interviewing all of the neighbors to get more information about the Hoffmans. Many of the neighbors were mortified and cried upon the news. But the couple that lived in this house weren’t in the Hoffman’s address book, which was unusual since they were the house right across from theirs. “I’m Roman Sionis-Zsasz, what can I do for the Gotham City Police Department this afternoon?”

“We were hoping we could come in to discuss a crime that happened in the neighborhood last night, just to see if you know anything unusual within the neighborhood,” Montoya explained.

“Oh, golly, of course. Come in, come in,” he said as he stepped to the side and held the door open for them. They made their way into the parlor room off to the side of the houses’s entrance. “Please do make yourselves comfortable and have a seat. Can I get you any water or coffee?”

“No thank you, Mr. Sionis,” Montoya said professionally. “I’d love a water,” Drago said simultaneously.

“One water coming up,” Roman said with a smile. “Victor, come in here! The police would like to talk to us about something!”

“Coming!” Victor shouted from the other room.

“My husband served in the war, so we have nothing but the utmost respect for our service men and women in uniform.” Roman said. “Be right back!”

“Husband?” Drago asked confusedly.

“Don’t make a scene, Drago,” Montoya said.

Victor entered the room from the garage and made his way into the parlor room. Drago seemed surprised by Victor’s appearance but Montoya wasn’t affected.

“Victor Zsasz-Sionis,” he greeted, holding his hand out to Montoya. “Pardon me for saying but I’m glad to see some women watching over the community. Men start all the problems and they go to war just to resolve them.”

Montoya chuckled as she shook his hand. “Thank you, I appreciate it. Detective Montoya.” He removed his hand to hold it out to Drago, who greeted him in return. “Detective Drago.”

Roman re-entered the room with Drago’s glass of water. Drago thanked him as Roman sat down next to Victor. “So, what has happened in our neighborhood? How may we help?”

“Unfortunately, there has been a murder. Across the street at the Hoffmans’s residence,” Montoya explained.

“Jesus Christ,” Victor said. “Oh my god, they’re right there!” Roman shrieked simultaneously. “They’re just a few feet away!”

“Precisely,” Montoya said. “Were you awake last night? Did you see or hear anything?”

“No, we were asleep,” Roman whimpered. 

Victor reached over to him to turn his gaze towards him. “Hey, Romy, it’ll be okay. We’re safe, we’re going to be safe. The police are here. Take a deep breath, okay?”

“Okay,” Roman cried.

Victor turned back to Montoya and Drago. “I am incredibly sorry, that’s very discomforting news. Roman’s not as trained in crisis counselling as I am.”

“How well did you know the Hoffmans?” Drago asked.

“Not at all,” Victor said. “I would wave hi to Erika when I saw her. We both tend the home I assume, so I would sometimes see her when I got back from the store or etcetera. She would always sheepishly wave but we weren’t close at all. My scars are scary, I get it. How about you Roman?”

“She didn’t really talk to me either. Shortly after we moved in I tried to invite them for a dinner and she didn’t seem very interested. She was nice about it, though. But that’s everyone in this neighborhood. We don’t receive a lot of positivity in this culdesac because we’re in a same sex marriage,” Roman said.

“We had no reason to hurt either of them because we didn’t know either of them, and we wouldn’t know if anyone else disliked them either,” Victor asked. “Are you able to say if it was Erika or Harold?”

“Both,” Montoya stated.

“Oh god,” Roman muttered. Zsasz began to rub Roman’s back reassuringly.

“Well I have no doubt you’ll catch the sick son-of-a-bitch who did this and keep our community safe,” Zsasz said with a smile.

“Yes we will,” Montoya said. “If you think of anything else, please reach out to us.” She reached in her pocket and handed Roman a business card with her name and phone number.

“Thank you, detective,” Roman said as he took it. “Maybe we’ll buy an extra deadbolt for the doors, but I feel a little safer with you both around.”

“We should get going,” Montoya said as she stood up with Drago. “Thank you for your time.”

“The pleasure was ours, detectives,” Zsasz said as he escorted them out. When the door was closed behind them, Zsasz turned around with a beaming smile to face Roman. Roman’s facial expressions of fear and disgust were now stone and neutral again.

“Don’t get cocky, don’t get messy, and don’t get reckless,” Roman whispered. 

“You got it, boss,” Zsasz whispered back. 


	4. Chapter Four

Dinah Lance hastily paces through the streets of Downtown Gotham. She is in no risk of being late, but she still prides herself on being early. The past two weeks of working for Roman have been a dream almost.

She still gets nasty stares from others on the commute with her, who possibly don’t think she belongs in the crowd with them, but she tries to heed them no mind; it’s all the more reason for her to walk faster as well.

She turns a street corner and hastily collides with someone doing the same. Dinah’s first reaction is panic other than her own collision. In the eyes of the white and wealthy, she had just assaulted them.

“I am so terribly sorry, it was an accident, we must've been turning at the same-”. When she lifted her head up from shame she saw the distinctive blue uniform and shiny brass badge. She was filled with even more worry. She was going to be arrested and probably assuaged. “I’m so sorry, officer,” she cried. “It was an honest mistake, please don’t hurt me.”

“Hey now, hey, relax,” said a feminine voice. She slowly opened her eyes through the water and she saw the picture in full: it was a smaller woman who was the officer, and she wasn’t white. “I’m definitely not the type of cop you should be afraid of.” Her voice was soothing and sincere. Dinah just nodded and wiped her eyes.

“I’m sorry for overreacting,” she said bashfully.

“No, I get it. This world isn’t easy for people like us. That’s why I wanted to be a cop, to make the police force a little bit better,” the officer said.

“And how’s that working?” Dinah asked.

The police officer chuckled and looked away from Dinah, out at the world behind her, as if to see her answer in the crowd. “I may have actually set women _and_ Hispanic people behind a lot.”

Dinah chuckled back. “Don’t be hard on yourself. I am sure there’s been _some_ progress.”

“Well, put a few bad men behind bars who have been trying to hurt people like us, so maybe,” she said.

“Well thank you, Officer….”

“Detective. Detective Renee Montoya,” she introduced.

“Dinah Lance,” she replied, extending her hand. “I’m a secretary at Wayne Enterprises.”

“Congratulations, that is a nice company from what I hear,” Montoya stated.

“It is, I have to hurry up though, I’m afraid,” Dinah stated.

“Oh, by all means of course! Don’t let me keep you,” she said with a smile. “Have a great rest of your day, Ms. Lance.”

“Thank you, you too!” Dinah stated as she continued her commute towards Wayne Enterprises. She waved a hello to Sara who was also just entering for the day and she made her way to the elevator to arrive at the floor Roman was on. 

She made her way to their section of the wing. The layout was open, but the hall was angled and designed so it was still partially private from the main office. There were a few waiting couches along the walls prior to Dinah’s desk, which guarded the door to Roman’s office. There were filing cabinets behind her desk along the wall next to the door.

Dinah pulled her chair out and removed her satchel before opening up the main pocket to take out her portfolio and planner and set them on her desk. Dinah flipped through the pages to see Roman’s schedule for the day and the notes she added to it. 

She took the key out of her pocket and unlocked the filing cabinets to grab the client files of everyone Roman was meeting with today. She unlocked Roman’s office for him and propped the door open, just as he liked it, before setting the files and some additional notes on his desk. 

Roman arrived minutes later with his briefcase and two coffees. “Good Morning, Dinah,” he greeted. He held the coffee holder with the two coffees to her and gestured with his head to the one closest to her. “This is for you.”

“Really?” She asked with a pleasant surprise. “You did not need to do this.”

“It was nothing,” he persisted. Dinah took the coffee and smiled. “Well, thank you.” She took a sip as Roman headed to his desk to review the files Dinah had set out for him.

“Tell me, do you think this day looks exciting?” Roman asked.

“I think so, yeah,” she said. “It’s been a good morning, and Helena Bertinelli looks promising. Your clients are never women.”

“Well, sadly, it’s a man’s world. Capital is earned by men, traded and sold to men, given to men, and inherited by men from other men,” Roman explained. “And I do suppose I should specify white men at that.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice,” Dinah replied. 

“From what I know of her, she comes from a successful lineage, patriarchs were all murdered leaving just her,” he said solemnly.

”That’s horrifying,” Dinah grimaced.

“You’d be surprised at the cruelty that any one person can hide so charmingly well. There are no such things as monsters, but there are men, subjectively the crueler of the two,” Roman explained. 

“Well, thank you for that _cheerful_ outlook to start the day, Roman,” Dinah teased sarcastically. Roman lifted his cup of coffee and winked at her before she turned and headed back to her desk. 

The work day was typical, and Dinah was really getting the hang of it. Departments would call for Roman and she’d send him off. She’d book future appointments and organize files that were delivered to her from the mail and fax room attendants. 

Roman finally returned a half hour prior to his meeting with Helena Bertinelli, much to Dinah’s relief. “Would you like your new memos now or after Ms. Bertinelli?”

“After, please,” Roman begged. “The people have been demanding today.”

“Understood,” Dinah confirmed as Roman headed back into his office. “You prepped for your meeting?”

“I sure am,” Roman confirmed. “Send her in when she’s here, please.”

“Will do,” she replied with a smile. Dinah really enjoyed this position more than being a maid to snooty and entitled white people. Roman was genuine, and the people she met here, even the clients, were nice too.

It was about a quarter of an hour later when a tall, slender woman with surprisingly defined arms approached Dinah’s desk. She was in a feminine, but professional business suit. She looked stunning, yet intimidating. Dinah wondered if she was tough in general, or if she had to appear that way to compete in a man’s world.

“Good Afternoon,” the woman greeted. “I’m Helena Bertinelli; I’m here to meet with Mr. Roman Sionis-Zsasz.”

“Of course, he is expecting you. Allow me,” Dinah said as she stood up and escorted Ms. Bertinelli to his door. It was only a few additional feet, but it was a small gesture that looked personal and professional. Some old fashioned individuals may even expect it as mandatory. 

She knocked on the door as a courtesy and opened it up. “Mr. Sionis, Ms. Bertinelli is here for you.”

“Wonderful,” he said with a smile as he stood up and made his way to them in order to greet Ms. Bertinelli properly. “Good Afternoon, Ms. Bertinelli, it’s lovely to meet you,” Roman stated as he shook her hand.

“Please, Helena is just fine. I am not so stuffy like I’m sure many of your other clients are,” she replied with a soft chuckle.

“Please have a seat,” Roman encouraged, gesturing to his desk and the two guest chairs. Helena headed to take a seat and Dinah showed herself out and closed the door behind her. Roman took a seat and opened up his folder and notes he had for her.

“So, we are looking at some commercial property venues here in Gotham? Development is booming at an all-time high, Ms. Bertinelli. We are looking to make Gotham City one of the top 10 biggest cities in the United States,” Roman said proudly. “And you were looking to have it be an entertainment nightclub enterprises, is that so?”

“Yes, and I already have the property in mind. 3426 Polar Lane. It’s one of the only properties you had available that was right on the waterfront, and it is absolutely crucial from my venue to be based on that waterfront,” Helena stated.

“Well, I am very pleased and impressed to have such a well-prepared client. We can skip the long-winded speeches and sales pitches,” Roman said relieved. “Unfortunately, that lot is already in the process of being sold. We are simply waiting on closing procedures on their end.”

“Ugh,” she exclaimed. “I simply knew I should have jumped on this sale sooner. Do you happen to know which organization is in the process of acquiring said property?”

“Yes, but I am afraid that information is strictly confidential. Just as I am sure you would prefer that any arrangement we made not be disclosed to strangers,’ Roman explained.

“Oh, but once the sale is finalized, it would be public. I just hoped that I’d be able to meet with this organization. I am sure they provided a generous non-refundable down-payment on the property. If I could convince them to rescind the offer, you’d get to keep all that money and then charge me just the same. Just think of the opportunity! And they’d buy a different property from you most likely, so you wouldn’t be _losing_ anyone.”

“I am afraid I must really insist. There are legal implications of that nature, as I am sure that you are aware, as a businesswoman yourself,” he countered.

“Of course,” Helena replied apologetically. “To be honest, out of all my projects, this was more of a personal one for myself. A fun dream, the club I always envisioned of attending myself, so it seems my passion has gotten the best of me. 

“There is no need to apologize,” Roman reassured. “I do have a few other properties on the waterfront that might interest you.”

“Unfortunately, I must decline. I have a hectic schedule today, and the lack of access to this property just created three more tasks for me. I’m sorry my visit is so short, but I will be sure to consider your company again in the future,” Helena said with a smile.

Roman knew a thing or two about a double life, and this woman definitely had a secret of her own. Regardless, he put on his most authentic charming smile and stood up. “Well, I’m very thankful for that, Helena. I do wish you the best of luck in your endeavors.”

They shook hands and Roman escorted her to the door and waved her goodbye. Dinah looked confused by the short meeting they had together and followed Roman back into his office.

“That was very brief,’ Dinah stated. “Did something happen with the deal?”

Roman gave Dinah an amused smirk as he took out a Rolodex from one of his desk drawers and began to flip through it. “I get the feeling she never wanted to buy a property. She was looking for information on the buyer.”

He found the contact information of the individual he was looking for and began to dial the number in the rotary phone. It rang briefly before being answered.

“Oswald Cobblepot, Penguin Enterprises,” the man stated on the other line.

“Good Afternoon, Mr. Cobblepot, it’s Roman Sionis from Wayne Enterprises. How are you?”

“What do you want, Mr. Sionis?”

“I was calling to follow up on the closing of the property on Polar Lane. You see, I had another customer swing about that one specifically, hoping they could speak to you directly-”

“Jesus Christ, Mr. Sionis. Who the fuck was it? You better not be giving my information out to anybody! Was it Helena Bertinelli? Large muscular broad?”

So they _did_ know each other. Or at least, Cobblepot knew of _her_. “Unfortunately, I cannot disclose the identity of-”

“Listen here you fucking fudge packing gossip, if I find out that you sent that dyke after me, you and your company will get sued, do you hear me?” Oswald exclaimed into the phone. _Fudge packer. Dyke._ The words replayed in his head and a devilish grin grew on his face.

“Mr. Cobblepot, the person was a property inspector. It is our standard protocol to have an evaluation before the sale, and unfortunately, the lot is not suitable for sale at this time per the county. Unfortunately, we will have to refund your deposit and terminate this order,” Roman lied. “I am more than happy to discuss other lots with you or have someone else from the company meet with you.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, was this not attended to prior? No I don’t want fucking anything to do with your shitty company!” Oswald exclaimed.

“I’m very sorry you feel that way, Mr. Cobblepot. We’ll arrange that refund for you immediately,” Roman stated. The line went dead, Mr. Cobblepot having hung up on him. Roman chuckled and began to flip through his Rolodex again for a new contact and began to dial that as well

“Good Afternoon, this is the office of Helena Bertinelli. May I please ask who is calling?” The female receptionist on the other line answered.

“This is Roman Sionis-Zsasz from Wayne Enterprises. Ms. Bertinelli just left my office, but I got the most ironic news for her. Can you take a message for her, please?”

“Of course. What should I advise her of?” She asked.

“Please tell her that Oswald Cobblepot has just decided not to move forward with the deal anymore and I would love for her to call me,” Roman said.

“Oswald Cobblepot, you say?” She repeated.

“Oh, the name slipped. It’s not important. Just tell her the property is open, would you please?” Roman asked innocently.

“I sure will,” the receptionist stated. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” Roman said with a smile as he set the phone back on the receiver. He smiled, wondering what exactly Helena was going to do with the information. He was certain, however, that it would be very interesting when the time came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to get back to this! Sorry for the hiatus and I didn't update as promised. But I just wrote chapter five and came up with so much content that this fic will now be 8 chapters long and have expanded upon characters!!! I'm very excited!!! Thank you for your patience, and you will all love chapter five when I release it later this week!


	5. Chapter Five

Roman and Victor were laying in their bed together on a lazy Sunday morning. Zsasz was on his back, and Roman was on his side, running his fingertips through Zsasz’s body hair, feeling the differences in the texture when his tips were grazing over fine hairs or the raised, hardened scars on Zsasz’s flesh.

“You’re so incredibly sexy, Roman complimented hungrily. “Some days I can’t believe I get to wake up to this view”

Zsasz let out a bashful chuckle and smiled back at his love. “I’m the lucky one. I had a powerful, successful businessman as a husband. He provides for me, treats me like a trophy, worships me. You do far more for me than I do for you.”

“Oh, don’t you say that. I’d say we try to give and take an even amount, don’t you agree?” Roman asked suggestively. Zsasz chuckled at the connotation. “You have that government money and you do all the house work and all of the maintenance, and all of the _cleaning up_. How did I get so lucky?”

“I ask myself the same thing,” Zsasz replied. They leaned in to each other and pressed their lips together repeatedly, giving the other lazy but tender and continuous kisses.

Roman slowly rolled on top of Victor, pressing their chests and their bulges together. Nothing warmed Roman’s cold heart more than holding the love of his life in _their_ bed, in _their_ home. It was their peaceful oasis in the desert of hatred and bigotry outside of the walls. The crumpled, discarded sheets were being pushed out of the way with their feet. 

Roman brought his mouth to Victor’s muscular neck. He loved Victor’s throat. It’s where his honeyed, husky voice emitted Roman’s name; it produced the vibrations that formed the words “I love you” over and over again. The first time Roman heard those words, time froze. They were transported to a different realm in Roman’s mind. There was no way Roman could have experienced a moment as magical as that on the hellscape that was their planet, in their cruel and homophobic country.

His hands ran over Victor’s hairy chest. Roman loved how Victor felt underneath his fingertips. The coarse body hair was a turn on enough, but the rugged scars beneath? It felt like a different type of Braille; a love poem on Victor’s skin that was meant to be read by him only. If Roman were alone, and he thought about Victor, whom he’d been married to for ages, he could almost convince himself that Victor was all in his mind. He was too perfect to not be fictitious; but feeling the physicality of the man beneath him was so grounding and amazing, that Roman could nearly come undone by the simple act of having Victor under him.

Their perfect, peaceful moment was quickly abrupted with the starling sound of glass shattering. Roman quickly felt something heavy impale his side with quick velocity and several sharp splinters piercing into his skin. 

Zsasz quickly used his strength to roll the both of them away from the window and off the bed into cover. They hit the floor heavily, but the pain of dodging an attack was always better than the assault itself. 

Zsasz quickly reached for a gun in their end table and stood up, pointing it at their shattered bedroom window, and he saw someone in a mask quickly running away, looking behind at them.

Zsasz pulled the trigger, hitting the man in the shoulder as he sprinted away. Full of rage, Zsasz wanted to chase him down. He didn’t care that he was naked at all. He wanted to grab the man by his neck and squeeze with all of his strength, but simple strangulation would not suffice. Victor wanted his thumbs to pierce into his throat, deep into the muscle, and then pry the folds of skin wide open and apart, ripping his neck into two halves, and having the blood flow like a stream onto the street that was supposed to be his and Roman’s home.

However, he could not. He dropped the gun and knelt down to help his husband. Roman was crying, and it hurt Victor deeply to see him that miserable.

How bad is the pain? Do we need to get you to a hospital?” Victor asked.

Roman shook his head no slowly, eyes still sealed shut holding back his tears to the best of his abilities. He slowly opened them and looked at Victor, the only good thing in the whole universe, with remorse and sorrow. He brought his hand to gently cup his husband’s face and stroke it. “I thought this place would be safe for you. All I’ve ever wanted was to provide you with a safe home, a utopia you deserve.”

Zsasz’s face struggled to smile at Roman’s selfless words. The man was assaulted with what looked like a heavy brick, and here he was, only worrying about him, when he didn’t even get hurt.

“You protected me,” Victor choked out. “You’re the one who deserved better.” He leaned forward and kissed his husband devotedly. If he kissed Roman hard enough, maybe all his pain would go away. But time and time again has proven that Victor’s love on its own wasn’t enough to heal or protect Roman, only actions would.

“I will find this monster who did this to you,” Victor growled, holding back all of his rage and tears as he held Roman’s head and looked at him straight in the eyes. “They are going to get the _worst_ of all my fury. Everything I have done up to this point will feign in comparison to the treatment this savage will receive from me.”

Roman’s smile grew and his eyes widened with positivity. There would be a silver lining after all to this situation. It gave him some hope. “Thank you, Victor. Thank you for protecting our family.” He placed his hand on one of Victor’s that was on his cheek, and he closed his eyes and just breathed in the small amount of peace Victor was offering for just a moment before he opened his eyes again. He stood up, lifting Victor along with him.

“We won’t be able to find this man alone. We are the enemy. His allies will protect him. We need a spy,” Roman said. 

Dinah was spending her weekend off dancing around her living room with her daughter, Laurel. They had gotten all dolled up and swung and spun to the lively rock and roll on the radio.

Dinah was singing along and her daughter was laughing and giggling. “You’re so good, mommy!”

“Thank you, baby girl!” Dinah exclaimed as she got down and kissed her on the cheek, causing her toddler to giggle harder. The phone began to ring and it caught her attention. “Just a second, baby, ok?”

She quickly lowered the volume before making her way to the phone. “Laurel Lance .”

“Laurel, it’s Roman,” he greeted.

“Hey, Roman, what can I do you for?” She asked.

“I’m sorry to bother you on the weekend, but I have an emergency. Some hooligan threw a brick through our bedroom window and struck me. Victor shot the offender in the shoulder but we don’t know how to find him. I don’t know who else to go to,” Roman said.

“I-I am so sorry, Roman. I can’t believe they’ve done this. Are you ok? Is Victor?”

“Victor is fine, I’m bruised and cut up. We’ll manage. We need to find this guy. Do you have any connections to find who might have an injured shoulder?” He asked.

“Sadly, not really. I’ll ask a maid or two, but I’m rather limited. Are you sure you can’t go to the police? I’m not fond of them, but you two are still white, that must count for something?”

“Sadly, not for much,” Roman said.

“Wait, I did meet one cop the other day. She was so nice. She’s a Latina and she was talking about how she tries to help minorities. This is a hate crime, she should relate. I think her name was Montoya.”

“Montoya? We’ve met her. Maybe, I’ll reach out to her. I appreciate it, Dinah. Thank you,” Roman said as he disconnected the line. He turned over to Victor who was leaning against the wall.

“Do we still have the number for that detective?” Roman asked.

“I’m glad you called,” Montoya said as she entered the home. “Are you alright?”

As good as one can be in this situation. I’m just glad it wasn’t my husband,” Roman said.

“I’m terribly sorry for this. Nobody should feel unsafe in their own home,” she said.

“If we don’t find this man, I fear it’ll happen again and again. I can replace one thousand windows, but I’ll never be able to replace my peace of mind. And I most certainly would never be able to replace Victor. 

Renee nodded with a remorseful expression on her face. “I understand.”

“Have you ever had someone hurt your loved one, and feeling powerless to stop it?” Roman asked.

A tear almost came to Renee’s eye as she thought about the time she had gotten a terrible crime leader locked away. Harvey Dent, a corrupt politician who was funneling government money to build a crime empire. 

“You’re like a coin, Detective Montoya,” Harvey stated as he was handcuffed to his hospital bed. “You’ve always got your head up.”

”Is your dumb analogy going anywhere, Dent?” She asked.

A cruel and wicked smile crept along Harvey’s face, half of which was now bandaged up due to him starting a fire in a building Montoya was in as he tried to bury some evidence. “Well, when a coin is heads-up, its other half is in the ground.”

Renee squinted at Harvey as his malicious expression grew on his face. There was a knock on the door and Renee turned to see her chief, who gestured for his head to come outside. She stepped out and they shut the door behind them.

“What are you doing here?” Renee asked.

“I was asked to identify a body,” he said solemnly. “Officer Yee’s home was blown with a bomb. She was inside. I know you two were friends.”

Renee couldn’t believe what she just heard. It couldn’t be true. He was lyin. “No, this, this isn’t. It’s not true. I need to see the body!”

“Montoya, I’m not letting ever cop in Gotham see the body. This isn’t tickets to the World Fair.”

“I was her,.....,” Lover. Girlfriend. Soulmate. The true words were buried deep inside her. “Friend,” she cried.

“She had a lot of friends on the force, Montoya. I was the closest person of interest for identification only, but only family can see her now,” her chief said.

Montoya had to grieve alone. She couldn’t go to Ellen’s family and introduce herself and be with them. She couldn’t confide in or reach out to a friend. She had to suffer in silence and drink her sorrows numb for over two years before the pain started marginally going away. And the less pain she felt for Ellen, the more guilt she felt for feeling less pain. She wanted revenge, but Harvey was already in prison. He had the last hoorah.

“I do know,” Montoya said hoarsely. The emotion was clear on her face, and Roman didn’t pry any further. He simply nodded.

“Then I believe you’ll do everything you can to help us,” Roman said softly. “We appreciate anything you can do.”

“Do you have any description of this person to try to track him?” She asked.

Victor nodded. “Yes. We have a gun for personal safety, as many Americans do. I grabbed it, not knowing if the assailant was coming in or not. I shot him in the left shoulder as he fled away.”

“A person with a gunshot wound in the left shoulder? There won’t be many of those. But I do not anticipate he’d go to the hospital. He’d need to explain the injury and therefore confess to the crime,” she said. “I have a contact. I’ll be in touch.” She left Roman and Victor’s house and made it downtown where she approached a run down commercial building with multiple suites of small businesses. 

She entered inside and looked at the directory. “Detective Bateman, World’s Greatest Detective, yeah right,” she read, moving her finger around the lines. “Dr. Harleen Quinzel.”

She made her way up the stairs to the suite that was listed. Sure enough, the door had her name on it. She tried to turn the knob, only to see that it was locked, unusual as all of these suites should have a public lobby. Montoya knocked on the door to announce her presence.

Footsteps approached the door and a shadow was on the other side of the textured glass, distorting the visage. “Who is it?”

“A patient,” Montoya replied.

“Dr. Quinzel isn’t expecting any patients today,” the woman said.

“Jacob Ochre,” Montoya said, sending a clear but subtle message.

There was no response on the other side of the door for a brief moment before it was quickly thrust open and a hand reached out to grab Montoya by the shirt and drag her inside. She reached for her gun but the lady’s other hand kept it in place.

“Jesus fuck, Montoya,” another woman’s voice said. “Ives, let her go. Shut the door, let’s not cause a scene.”

The bodyguard did as instructed and dropped Montoya, and quickly shut the door behind them.

Montoya started to sit herself up, hand still on her gun, and she looked angry at the blonde sitting on the reception desk. “If you had said Renee fucking Montoya I would have let you in.”

“Would you?” She asked skeptically.

“Of course! I have a special place in my heart for all crooked cops who help cover up murders of abusive ex-boyfriends,” Dr. Quinzel said. “Monty, this is Pamela, my botanist.”

”Give her my social security number while you’re at it, Harley,” she replied.

Harley laughed at her accomlice’s joke. “She’s a fun cop! But she’s never had a social visit. I take it you’re here to claim that I-O-U that I owe you, huh?”

“You’re right,” Montoya said. 

“It must be pretty major, you been sitting on this for two years. Are you still in that really fun dark place? Don’t tell me you’ve mellowed out,” Harley said.

“Enough!” Renee said. “Someone is going to need a house call. They’ve suffered a bullet wound in their left shoulder.”

“Hold up, you never mentioned two years ago the favor was gunna involve being a narc. My entire empire is built on discretion. I can’t make the bacon by giving all the meat to you pigs!” She exclaimed.

“One name is most certainly worth one fucking murder and your life out of prison, Harleen. Besides, don’t you want to know how he got his bullet wound?” Montoya asked.

“I don’t ask the questions that do not pertain to me patching them up. It’s business etiquette,” Harleen said.

“He assaulted a same-sex couple with a brick. He threw it through their bedroom window simply for being in love,” Montoya explained.

Harley and Pamela glanced at each other, sharing a look in silence. “I could simply not take the job. I can say I don’t do that.”

“No,” Renee said. “You take the job, get the intel about the household.” She thought long and hard about the rage she had seen on Roman and Victor’s faces. The desperation to protect each other. It brought out only a certain type of fury; the same fury Renee had when she found out that shortly after Ellen was murdered, a young doctor was being abused by her gang leader boyfriend. The dark place she went to when she helped Harley kill ‘J’. The dark place that would describe the violent murders going on in Roman and Victor’s neighborhood. “You won’t have to worry about them ruining your reputation. I get the feeling your surgery is going to be ineffective, and he and anyone in that household are going to succumb to…...an infection.”

Harley smirked a knowing smirk. “I’d love to see the side effects of that kind of infection. If I get called, I’ll get you the information I can.”

“Thank you, Harleen,” Montoya said as she made her way to the exit of Harleen’s office. Once she was outside, she took a deep breath and looked at the sky. Roman Sionis and Victor Zsasz were the murderers in their neighborhood. They were killing off the homophobes who abused them and made them feel scared, weak, and helpless; everything Montoya felt when she lost Ellen. She had nobody there for her until she met Harley when she responded to that distress call. 

Harley begged for help. He had hit him in the head with a lamp in self defense. He was bleeding on the floor, still breathing. Harley as crying with guilt and fear. She was covered in bruises, the sign of democratic violence was clear. But she was so manipulated by him.

“Officah, you have to help him! We just got into just a little scuffle! Please, don’t let my baby go!” She begged.

Montoya looked over at Mr. J who was pleading for help in his eyes. But she saw the severe damage painted all over Harleen’s body.

“I lost someone I love,” Renee said softly. “I would have given her the world if she asked.” She turned to Mr. J and got down on the ground. “This woman loves you. You destroy her and break her, and she is still begging for you to be ok. You don’t deserve her love.”

“Please ma’am, I don’t care about that, just help!” Harley begged.

“Do you want him to be healed because you love him? Or do you want him healed because you think it’ll get him to love you? To forgive you?” Renee asked.

“I-I don’t understand!” Harleen begged.

”If he lives, will he hurt you again?” Renee asked.

“No, no, he’ll change! He’ll change!” Harley begged.

“Will he?” Renee asked. “Or will he hurt you again?” Harley just looked at Montoya through the tears, as she processed. “I can get him help, if you’re 100% sure he won’t hurt you again. Or we can be 100% sure he won’t hurt you again now.”

Harley breathed in and out slowly. Her hyperventilating began to slow and her tears began to stop as well. “I don’t want him to hurt me anymore. Or anyone. Ever again.”

Renee nodded. “Okay, sweetie.” She pulled gloves out of her pockets and put them on her hands. She rolled Mr. J over so he was on his back and he could see Harley.

“I want you to look at her face when I kill you, you sick bastard,” she said. The face of the angel you’ve hurt over and over. The life you’ve played with as a toy? She just decided the consequences of your actions, buddy.”

She squeezed Mr. J’s neck with all of her strength, fear paralyzed his face as he tried to plead for his life silently with Harley. At first the sight disturbed her, but then the look of fear intrigued her. She had never seen fear on mr. J before, but she was always living in fear due to him. 

Harley laughed as Mr. J’s body went limp in the detective’s hands. “Thank you,” Harley said. 

“You’re going to owe me. Now, let’s get this cleared up,” Renee said.

Harley needed her then, and the Sionis-Zsasz’s needed her now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My laptop is broken hence the delay. I write on my ipad but its hard to format there. The indents are always fucked. Chapter 6 is also done and it'll be posted soon.


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